


Let Go

by OTPshipper98



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Darkfic, M/M, POV Second Person, Self-inflicted Imperio, accidental murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23110843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPshipper98/pseuds/OTPshipper98
Summary: Harry tries to save Draco from himself.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random thing I wrote as a quick warm-up and ended up liking! Thanks to April-thelightfury115 for betaing :)

The voice in the back of your head is low at first, and you find it easy to ignore it. To brush it off.

_This is not you. These are not your thoughts. This is wrong._

Nothing is wrong, you tell the voice. In fact, everything is exactly as it should be. Easier. Happier. 

Painless.

_But this is not you_.

But this is who you want to be.

_Is it?_

***

“Draco, you need to stop this,” he pleads, and you have to look away. “You’ve been keeping the spell cast for too long. Your mind needs time to recover from the strain—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say. Because he _doesn’t_. He’s always been the good guy. He’s always been the hero.

“That’s bollocks!” 

Potter’s scream makes the rush of your own thoughts turn into a throbbing headache. _You need to stop this—you need to face the truth—you need to LET GO. Let go, let go, let go—_

“SHUT UP!” you yell, gripping the sides of your head. If Potter would just _give you back your bloody wand_ everything would be okay. You’d strengthen the _Imperius_ you’ve cast upon yourself right away, silence the voice. You’d sink back into the blissful haze that your life has been for—how long now? you wonder, then decide it doesn’t matter.

“Draco,” Potter pleads. “Please. You could cause yourself irreparable damage.”

“Good,” Draco grits out. “I don’t care.”

“Well I do.”

“Well you shouldn’t!” Draco can barely see through the blinding pain now. “There is _nothing_ about me worth caring about, so just give me my wand and _leave_!” 

You catch glimpses of the look he gives you. Sadness. Hesitation. Worry.

Determination.

“No.”

You reach out, but your own body betrays you—you miss his arm by an inch, and in the moment it takes you to realise you’re grabbing at air, he’s pulled out your wand. 

He’s snapping it in half. 

It’s like time stops moving—like years upon years of your life unravel before your eyes in a second as you scream. As your own mind overflows your very being, and you collapse, and you scratch the beautiful woollen carpet Pansy gifted you a lifetime ago as you desperately reach out for your own being—as it gets ripped out of you by a force that makes you gasp one last time before the wool, the harrowing pain, and Potter’s desperate screams fade into an intrusive, suffocating darkness. 


End file.
